by Leia Shaw
Destiny Divided
Leia Shaw
Kindle 4th edition (e-book)
ISBN: 978-1467947039
Copyright 2011, 2013
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review without written consent from the author.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Sage emptied the contents of her backpack onto a desk in the basement of the school. Two phones, an MP3 player, and twenty bucks.
“Not bad,” she said to herself and dumped her looted treasures into a shoebox.
She pulled out a wad of cash and counted it. It still wasn’t enough for an apartment, even in the scummiest parts of town. She kicked the table in frustration. She’d been stealing, working, and saving for two months and she wasn’t even close.
Maybe if she cut back on meals. At the reminder, her stomach growled. Would it really matter even if she had enough cash? There was no one to co-sign, no bank references. With her ripped up jeans, black tank top, and combat boots, she couldn’t pass for responsible adult if she tried.
If only the classes she’d been sneaking into counted towards a degree. Hell, if class attendance was all it took, she’d have a fucking PhD.
Was it possible to forge a college degree?
She tucked the cash back into her jeans pocket then looked at the old metal filing cabinet that held her meager belongings.
“If you’d stop buying books then you’d save more,” she scolded herself. Another sigh then she pulled on her faded gray button down janitor shirt. She hated arguing with herself. For once, she wished she had someone to argue with. Mostly she wished for Erin – her sister, though not by blood.
“Sage?” Her boss’s voice boomed from above. “Are you down there?”
She shoved the shoebox in the cabinet, closed the metal doors then snapped the padlock in place.
“You’re late again,” Tony said when she bounded up the stairs.
On the outside, Tony looked like he belonged in the mafia, but on the inside, he was a mushy teddy bear. He’d proven to be an ally Sage sorely needed. Once a week he would bring her home-cooked meals his wife had made. He knew she was struggling. It was that obvious. What she hoped he didn’t know was that she was living in the basement of the building they cleaned every night.
“Come on, Tony, you need someone to keep you on your toes. Aren’t you glad it’s someone as charming as me?” She batted her eyes and gave her best angelic smile.
He grimaced.
Admittedly, there wasn’t much angelic about her.
Tony grumbled something about hiring employees based on his “damned bleeding heart”, but he stopped short when he met her gaze. His forehead creased. “How are you doing today, tesora?”
“Just peachy,” she answered in a perky tone. The acting class she’d snuck into was paying off. “Should I do the west side again?”
He sighed. “Sure.”
Tony disappeared into the supply closet. The sound of metal grating against metal made her shudder. He pushed her cleaning cart into the hallway. The one with the squeaky wheel. If she never heard that sound again, she would die a happy woman.
“Maybe if we’re fast tonight you can get some sleep before your first class,” he said. “What did you say you were taking Friday mornings?”
“Umm…British Literature,” she lied. Tomorrow she would be at the pawn shop. Maybe she’d make it back in time for Mythology in the afternoon. She liked that class. And the professor wasn’t bad to look at.
“Have you eaten tonight, Sage?”
“Yes.” Another lie.
He appraised her with a long glance. “All right. Tomorrow my wife is making Chicken Cacciatore. I’ll bring you leftovers.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it. I love your wife’s cooking.” That was the truth. “Tell Isobel I said thank you.”
After Tony left for his side of campus, Sage stared at the mop then the long empty hallway before her. She took a deep breath and held back a groan. No point complaining. It wouldn’t make it any better.
***
James had just finished a lecture on modern depictions of mythological creatures at the small liberal arts college in Eastern Massachusetts when he paused and peered around the room. Forty blank expressions stared through him. Two students had actually fallen asleep.
He sighed. Americans.
Culture shock was long gone but he still missed his home country of Wales. The rocky shorelines, the rolling hills, the people. His people. He’d been respected in Wales.
But now he was the subject of silly female crushes because of his “sexalicious” accent. Most people assumed he was British. At least they were close – Wales and England were neighbors. But on more than one occasion, a student had approached him and asked, “Uh, dude, are you from Russia?”
He dismissed the class before he fed into the urge to rile them in a way that would ensure they never slept in his class again. Giving students nightmares for life, though tempting, was below him.
A commotion in the hallway distracted him from his violent thoughts.
“Ms. Peterson, you will remain here while I call the police.” The Dean’s voice echoed outside the classroom.
Curious, he went to investigate.
The hallway was mostly empty. The two security guards standing stiffly with their hands on their hips must have discouraged nosy bystanders from lingering.
“Martin. Julio,” the Dean said to the guards, “make sure she doesn’t leave. I’ll be back with my phone in a minute.”
The subject of the ruckus was a slender brunette with a mutinous look on her face. She brandished a mop like a weapon, which explained the presence of the security guards. But she looked more like a scared kitten than a dangerous threat.
“Put the mop down, Kill Bill,” the overweight guard ordered.
She sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the mop tighter. The lights flickered.
James spared a glance at the long florescent bulbs then continued to watch the scene.
Martin shrugged. “Must be a storm coming.”
The girl’s expression didn’t change. Her eyes were narrowed slits, focused only on the guards. Their attention shifted back to her.
“Come on,” Martin said. “Put the fucking mop down. Don’t make us taser you.”
James snorted. Campus Security didn’t carry tasers.
A soft, feminine growl erupted then the light behind the guards burst. They skirted out of the way as glass rained onto the floor.
“What the hell is going on?” Julio asked.
“Eh, weird shit always happens in this school,” Martin answered.
James took a step forward then it hit him like a freight train. Magic. Powerful and raw, it rolled off the woman, barely contained. She was a supernatural. He could feel it in his bones.
“I’ve got the police on the phone now,” the Dean bellowed from the end of the hallway. “Professor Elias, what are you doing here?”
“Just leaving for the night,” he answered the Dean. “But since I’m here, is there anything I
can do?”
“No, no.” He waved a dismissive hand. The other held his phone to his ear. “I’m on hold but the police should be arriving soon.”
“The police? What has the girl done wrong to warrant an arrest?”
“She’s a janitor but we found her living in the school basement. There’s been a string of thefts we think she might be involved in. And she’s been sitting in on classes without being registered.”
Ah, so that was where he’d seen her. If he remembered correctly, she’d been the only one who’d paid attention during the deities lecture in Mythology.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” the Dean said with a smile. “The police will take care of it.”
The police? The girl could barely control herself with the threat of the security guards. Involving the police would turn into a disaster.
With a sigh, he stepped forward. “Actually, the girl,” he stopped himself and glanced at the name on her work badge, “Sage and I have a prior arrangement.”
The Dean’s brow furrowed.
Sage’s jaw dropped. “We do?”
He gave her a conspirator’s glare but kept his voice cool. “I ask you for leniency, sir. She’s only slept here a few nights while my other tenant moved out. You see, Sage and I just signed a contract. She will be renting a room from me.”
“Like hell I –”
“Hush,” he snapped with a sharp look. His tone commanded obedience and she obliged. By the look on her face it was a loathing obedience. He smiled at the Dean. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”
“But the police –”
“She’s not going anywhere. I promise.” He gave the Dean a winning smile that always worked to soothe humans then strode toward Sage, assessing her body language as he got closer.
Confused, angry, willing to fight if pushed. He was already wondering if he’d regret this later.
With a quick yank, he removed the mop from her hands. “Come with me.”
She looked at the Dean, still on the phone with the police, then at the guards blocking the only exit. With a loud exhale, she nodded.
“Smart girl.” He led her down the hallway, far enough out of hearing range but close enough not to worry the Dean.
“Who the hell are you?” she hissed.
“Do you want to get arrested?”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s a simple yes or no question. Do you want to get arrested?”
Her lips tightened into a thin line and the lights flickered. “Fuck you.”
He stepped towards her then grinned when she stepped back. For all her bravado, she was as insecure as a small child.
“I know what you are,” he whispered in her ear. “Come home with me and we’ll talk.”
Her eyes grew wide before she schooled her features. A guarded scowl aged her. She studied him, appraising him like a gazelle would a lion.
“It’s either that or spend the night in county,” he added.
“What’s the catch?”
Typical American – always expecting to get screwed over. “Here are my terms. You come home with me tonight, answer my questions, get a good night’s sleep in my guest room and I’ll get you out of this mess. I’ll even buy you breakfast in the morning.”
“What kind of questions?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
She gave him a sideways glance.
“We don’t have time to agree on every detail, Sage. You’ll just have to trust me.”
A small smirk formed on the edge of her lips. It was such a contrast to the cynical glares, it unnerved him. Was she scheming?
“Fine,” she answered flippantly. “But I want coffee with my breakfast.”
He had to bite back a laugh. Cornered and desperate yet she made demands? “Done.”
“Strong coffee.”
“Is there any other kind?”
She stuck out a hand. “Sage Peterson.”
He shook it. “James Elias.”
Chapter 2
“Welcome home,” James said as they pulled into the driveway of a quaint blue house several miles from campus.
The last house Sage had seen was at least a quarter of a mile away. Driven to a secluded spot with a stranger – this was shaping up to be the perfect start to a horror movie.
He looked young, for a professor. His chiseled features and regal confidence reminded her of European nobility. Strawberry blonde hair was cut short and styled in perfectly random spikes, as if he were about to shoot a hair gel commercial.
She drank in his deceptively charming appearance. Deceptive, because at first glance he looked like a wealthy gentleman, but what women didn’t see was the lethal potential simmering just below the surface.
The professor had stayed true to his word and had talked the Dean into dropping all charges. She had barely repressed a snarl when James had promised to “take full responsibility of her.”
She’d lost her job and was banned from campus. But honestly, the only thing she’d felt guilty about was lying to Tony. He’d looked so heart-broken when she’d packed her meager belongings and gave him a quick hug. But as a product of the foster care system, she was used to saying goodbye.
James opened the car door and carried her bag toward the house. At least he wasn’t a complete ass.
“What do you have in this bag?” he asked. “Rocks?”
Definitely an ass.
“None of your business,” she snapped and tried to grab it back. He jerked it away before she could.
Once inside, he flipped on the lights to reveal a kitchen that opened to a living room. Wide windows on three sides drew the eye.
It was an attractive home, very clean. Too clean. She cringed. A neat freak. Did she expect any different from the uptight, perfectly groomed professor?
She’d assumed he was a bachelor. It didn’t seem likely a woman would take too kindly to her husband bringing home a twenty-five year old girl like a stray dog.
James walked her through the kitchen and down a hallway. He pointed out a bathroom then flung open a door across the hall.
“You can sleep here.” He dropped her bag inside.
A multi-colored quilt that looked like a grandmother had stitched it lay across the full size bed. A desk with a reading lamp and office chair filled the other corner of the cozy room.
She looked longingly at the bed. Tempting as it was, she couldn’t stay. “Can I get a few minutes before you interrogate me?”
“Sure.”
She waited for him to leave. He only widened his stance in the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Privacy?” she hinted.
“My wallet?”
Busted. Maybe he was smarter than she gave him credit for. She sighed and pulled it out of her back pocket then handed it to him.
He opened it and arched a brow. “There was twenty dollars in here.”
With another sigh she took the twenty out of her other pocket and slapped it into his palm.
His fingers wrapped around her hand he pulled her into his body. “I don’t know your background but I understand your desperation. I will tolerate many things but stealing is not one of them.”
She yanked her hand away, stumbling back a few steps. “Fuck off. You can’t talk to –”
“I’ll be waiting in the living room. You have five minutes.” He slammed the door before she could utter another word.
“Bastard,” she hissed at the closed door. But she would get the last laugh. He couldn’t really think she’d just go along with this.
The bedroom window was big enough for her to fit through. She took extra care to open it quietly then popped the screen out. Thankfully, the bedroom was on the first floor. She grabbed her backpack and slipped outside.
It was a moonless night and she struggled to orient herself in the darkness. She took several steps before bumping into a hard wall of muscle.
“I should have known you’d be trouble,” a familiar voice sai
d.
She groaned. How could she not have seen him? His pale skin glowed in the black night. She turned to run but a hand shackled her wrist. He dragged her through the dark at a pace that made her depend on him to remain upright. She tried to stay calm.
“Let me go, James. You can’t force me to stay here.”
“Wanna bet?”
She panicked. He sounded too confident. And he was strong – she could feel it in his grip around her wrist. He could easily overpower her.
A bright blue light burst into her free hand. The magic flowed through her, barely contained, fighting for release. She knew what would happen if she let it go. It had a life of its own.
James swung around to face her. “Cut that out.” He squeezed her wrist until her bones threatened to snap.
“Ow!” Her light flickered then disappeared, the heavy weight of power disappearing with it.
“Control yourself,” he snapped.
As it if were that easy. He didn’t seem fearful of her power, which put her on edge. What other weapon did she have against him?
“Look. Bad things happen when I get angry, okay?” Maybe being reasonable would work. “As of right now, I don’t want to hurt you. Keep dragging me around and I’ll change my mind.”
“Hurt me?”
“I may be small but I’ve hurt bigger men than you.”
“You and I need to have a talk.” He continued his hurried pace, crossing the driveway, dragging her along behind him.
Inside the house, he grabbed a wooden chair, set it in the middle of the living room then ordered her to sit.
She remained standing. Out of habit, she searched the room for exits and weapons.
“I can see you’re thinking about running again,” he said. “Do you think I won’t catch you?”
If there was one thing Sage knew, it was body language. His voice may have been calm, but his body was not. He stood several feet in front of her, sturdy like a tree, blocking her only exit. Had he always been that tall?
“We need to talk,” he told her.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
He sighed. “Must we do this the hard way then?”
The hard way? She didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t like being backed into a corner, James. Bad things happen.”
